Most people drive cars, but I choose to ride amotorcycle. My name will mean nothing to them. The problem is that my life alsomeans nothing to them. I look over as I’m riding, and watch people illegallytalking on the phone, texting, reading, eating, and doing anything andeverything but paying attention. I’ve had them change lanes into me, turn leftin front of me, and rear-end me at stop lights. They’ve killed and injured myfriends with their careless disregard for those of us who ride, yet it hasn’tcaused them one moment of grief or regret. If one of them carelessly took mylife tomorrow, they would not even bother to read my name in the tiny report inthe “Local” section of The Bee.
Our state legislators have forced us to wearhelmets in the name of safety, yet it was not their concern for us, but thepolitical contributions from insurance companies pushed this law through. Itwas all about the money. Now, they want to pass another law and severelyrestrict one of the three things that keep us alive in today’s unpredictabletraffic: Those three indisputable factors are our sight, our hearing(restricted by helmets), and our ability to attract the attention of driversaround us. Unless drivers are sufficiently forewarned of our presence, theywill not notice a motorcycle, and our invisibility to them is the biggestthreat to our safety. In most cases of accidents involving cars versusmotorcycles (85 percent the fault of the motorist), usually involving the deathof the motorcyclist, the investigating officer hears, “but officer, I didn’t seethe motorcycle!”
Do I consider this the fault of motorists ingeneral? To some degree, yes, but in a larger sense, it is because society hasbecome so busy with our complicated and technologically enhanced lives that wefail to take sufficient notice of what transpires around us. This is no longerthe “simpler times” when we could usually depend on other drivers to see andobey stop signs, or stay in their lane, and self preservation must become ournumber one priority. Those who have never ridden a motorcycle may find thishard to accept, but motorcycles have been part of America’s heritage for morethan one hundred years, and as most exceed 40 miles per gallon, they are also afactor in reducing our “carbon footprint.”
Do I have loud pipes on my motorcycle? Absolutely,for the same reason that a police officer wears a bulletproof vest. They bothsave lives. Do my loud pipes annoy other drivers? I’m sure they do at times,but their inattention both annoys and endangers me, and at least when they’resufficiently annoyed, they will look for the source, and I get to live anotherday. I do, however, make it a point not to make unnecessary noise inresidential areas, and most other riders do the same.
When you sit in your living room watchingtelevision and are momentarily inconvenienced by the sound of a loudmotorcycle, remember: The rider is alive, and it’s thanks in part to the soundyou find so offensive. Think about us raising our families, and playing withour grandchildren, then ask yourselves if our lives aren’t worth missing a fewseconds of your favorite show.
My life only matters to me, my family, and a smallgroup of friends. It doesn’t matter to the guy eating his hamburger in hisLexus at 75 miles per hour, the woman looking into the back seat, scolding herkids in the car that’s dangerously close to my rear fender, or to the young manwho whips his sports car into my lane so close I have to hit the brakes toavoid a collision. Do they see me? No. Do they look when they hear me? Yes.That could be the difference between playing with my grandchildren and beingjust another unread name in the obituaries.
–Buckshot
Madera, Califa
